Harvard Crimson
by fieldagent85
Summary: While Josh struggles to please his new professor, a certain Dr. Bartlet, said professor deals with some struggles of her own.
1. Chapter 1

Part One

February, 2003

Abbey Bartlet had been standing in the doorway for close to two full minutes without being noticed. Josh Lyman continued to type on his computer and only when he glanced up to grab some papers did he finally spot her. He unsuccessfully attempted to conceal his surprise and laughed nervously.

"You're very stealthy, ma'am. I've always liked that about you."

"Yeah?"

"How are you this morning?" He asked, cordially.

She glared at him.

"You outwitted my chancellor. You bested my swordsman."

"I haven't mentioned this in awhile, ma'am, but I think you and the President are a perfect couple."

She sat down in front of his desk and Josh took that as a sign that he should have a seat as well.

"I wanted that twelve million," Abbey said.

"Me, too, but at the end of a prize fight, you look at the guy who's dancing around, and that's who won."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? A little like 'hold the fish loosely,' a saying she herself had never quite comprehended and yet used whenever it seemed pertinent.

"Why doesn't my agenda get anywhere in these negotiations?"

"Can I ask you, ma'am, why do you think?" Josh asked in return.

"Because you're a political snob who doesn't think the First Lady belongs on the starboard side of the building?"

Though Josh would fiercely deny it given the opportunity, he wasn't entirely sure that was untrue.

"Wrong."

"Wrong what?"

"Wrong, ma'am."

"Damn right."

Abbey Bartlet was the only person in the world who kept him on his toes quite like this, and he matched her punch for punch. First Lady or no First Lady, he was the Deputy Chief of Staff! He had a job to do, and nobody elected her. Her name wasn't on the ballot. But then, neither was his. Alas, instead of pondering that thought, he decided to push his point a little further.

"The President and Leo make their decisions by listening to and participating in vigorous debate. This isn't school. I work with people who can play."

"You're comfortable being this condescending with me?" She asked in genuine disbelief.

Honestly…?

"Yes, ma'am." He always had been.

"Why?"

"Because I won, I always do, and you came here for my advice."

Although he knew that First Lady was much too independent to involve her husband, Josh secretly wondered how the President would react had he been at all privy to their current conversation and the way he was speaking to her.

"Max…"

"Max is an idiot."

"Max is my nephew," Abbey said defensively.

"No kidding. He doesn't understand the budget process, he doesn't understand committee structure, he thinks decisions are made in meetings..."

"This is an extremely…"

"...and he can't play at this level. Mrs. Bartlet, you're the First Lady, you need a Chief of Staff, a real one. If you want your agenda taken seriously, put a professional face on it."

She glared at him for a moment, a devious smile playing upon her lips.

"Thank you."

"Thank you, ma'am."

She stood then, and as she sauntered confidently through the hallway as she always did, Josh found himself unable to look away.

February, 1988

In his three and a half years as a student at Harvard University, Joshua Lyman had skillfully managed, through manipulative charm, to avoid science classes whenever and wherever he possibly could. The subject, all forms of it, was simply not his forte. He didn't sweat it though. He had other fortes. After all, he assured himself, it's not often that one is confronted with having to dissect a pig in the political arena, unless you're speaking metaphorically, of course. He had taken a mild Chemistry course and a highly pointless semester of Astronomy. It got him the credits he needed, and that would suffice. A semester of Genetics, he figured, he would an absolute breeze. He had taken Honors Biology in high school, and Genetics was roughly the same thing…wasn't it?

On his first day of Genetics, he was late. This was predictable and, to Josh, acceptable. He took a seat among the other twenty-seven students in the class as the professor wordlessly handed out a syllabus that would take them through the end of the school year. Looking around, he saw that he hadn't a single companion in the class, nor did he see anyone he ever remembered seeing before in the last few years. In the next two hours, Josh found himself zoning out more than he ever had before. He couldn't understand how anyone could possibly enjoy something like that. By the end of class, he had learned nothing except for he did like the professor. He was an older man, a jovial personality with so much enthusiasm that it almost made Josh want to pay attention, but no dice. Fortunately, it looked as if this professor would easily fall prey to Josh's enigmatic manipulations and he could charm himself to at least a B. He was Josh Lyman. He always won.

He couldn't remember what his homework was. Two days later, before his next Genetics class, he stood outside the lecture room and tried to fabricate a good excuse for his lack of preparedness. Sufficiently armed with his false explanation, he entered the room, late as usual. Gone was the older man with the jovial personality. Standing the middle of the room, presumably addressing the rest of the class, was a tiny, dark-haired, thoroughly lovely woman of about forty-two. Damnit, Josh thought as he raced to take his seat in the front. The last time he'd had an attractive professor things hadn't gone so well for him. Please, he prayed, let her not be permanent.

"You must be Mr. Lyman. We've been waiting for you."

Josh smiled sheepishly, but said nothing.

"Mr. Lyman, this is Harvard University. As a Harvard student, you are expected to arrive in class on time, not whenever it suits you."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, nervously.

"See that it doesn't happen again."

Josh nodded in full compliance. Now, he'd had some tough professors in the past, but none that had hung him out to dry on the first day! Appearances, Josh then decided, were too deceiving for his liking. He observed her thoughtfully as she walked the length of the room and realized that, despite her three-inch heels, she was much shorter than he had initially detected. She wore a dark blue cashmere sweater and a knee-length black skirt. Josh cringed. Short, stunning, and altogether intimidating. Please, he prayed again, let her not be permanent. This is bad on so many levels.

She began addressing the class then, speaking in a much more congenial manner than she had spoken to him a moment earlier.

"I know you all must be wondering what in the hell I'm doing here, so let's cut right to chase, shall we? Professor Moore has taken ill and will be on a leave of absence for the remainder of the year. You can call me a substitute if you like, but as this appears to be only your second class, it will, in reality, be rather the opposite. I'm going to take this time to tell you a little about myself, because I don't know about you, but when I was in college, I hated not knowing a damn thing about my professors. This is a relatively small class, so I will do my best to get to know you and hope that you will seize the opportunity to do the same."

Josh nodded, thoroughly, but not willingly, mesmerized.

"My name is Abbey Bartlet," she announced. "You will refer to me as Dr. Bartlet, something you would understand if you spent twelve years of your life in medical training. I am an adjunct professor here at Harvard, and an alumnai of Harvard Med School. I am a board-certified thoracic surgeon working primarily at Boston Mercy Hospital. My husband, a former Economics professor at Dartmouth and Nobel Prize winner, represents New Hampshire's first district in Congress. We have three daughters, the oldest being eighteen and the youngest being eight. My father is district attorney for the Eastern District of Massachusetts and my sister teaches Political Science at BC. And for the next three and a half months, I'll be teaching you the wonders of genetics. Does anybody have any questions?"

Josh, with his eyes widened and his jaw open slightly, found himself staring straight ahead. Although it could be argued that he had taken leave of his senses and had lost control over his actions, that did nothing to diminish the fact that his gaze was focused on a rather inappropriate section of his new professor's figure. She was quick to notice this, however, she was not quite as quick to spare his dignity. The class watched with anticipation as a devious smirk dominated her face and she approached her prey.

"I'm up here, Mr. Lyman."

She kneeled down until she was face to face with him. He snapped out of his dazed reverie and upon adjusting to the situation at hand, blushed while his classmates laughed uproariously. He observed the chuckling traitors and sunk back into his chair.

"My husband's a pretty powerful man, you know. If he ever got wind that…"

"Yeah," Josh interrupted crankily. "I got it."

"Good." She turned to the rest of the class. "Let that be a lesson to you all as you roam the earth in your daily lives. In fact, that is your very first lesson. Never get caught drooling over a Congressman's wife. That's one you can pass on to your grandchildren."

The class burst into laughter once more and she laughed right along with them. Josh shook his head in disbelief and sunk even lower. He felt, for the first time in his excessively fortunate existence, like curling up in the fetal position and shrinking out of sight.

By the time class came to its inevitable conclusion, Josh had rebuilt his confidence and reconstructed his wall of imperviousness. He was Joshua Lyman, for God's sake! He was always popular in school, the favorite of all his teachers, and never received lower than a B on a report card in his life. He wasn't inclined to let some surrogate professor destroy his reputation. But, at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to dislike her. She had something few professors had- a sort of enlightened detachment. As a prominent thoracic surgeon and not a full-time professor, Dr. Bartlet was more in touch with the real world than most professors. She did not live to teach, and she did not live for her students. She came here to educate, inform, inspire, and then return to her admirable career of saving lives. She was obviously intelligent, having been educated at Harvard herself, and her pedigree appeared to be without blemish. She had an eighteen-year-old daughter so she knew exactly how to handle young adults, and she had an eight-year-old which led him to believe she could probably wrangle even the most unruly student into shape. Not only that, but she was the first person Josh had ever met who presented a serious challenge to him, and he had convinced himself he was up to the task.

As his fellow students summarily filed out of the room, Josh took his time. Abbey had returned to her desk in the corner and started fishing through a few unidentified documents. He stood in front of the desk until she noticed him. When she looked up, she chuckled and shook her head.

"What's up?"

She gathered the documents in her arms and started walking. He followed her.

"Do you enjoy routinely humiliating your students in front of their peers?" Josh questioned.

"If at all possible, yes."

"That's comforting."

Abbey laughed.

"Isn't it?"

"Dr. Bartlet."

Suddenly, her movements came to an abrupt stop and she turned to face him.

"Look, Josh, I don't fault you for anything that happened today. Nothing you did was out of the ordinary for a kid in college. Let's just not make a practice out of it, okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, with only a hint of sarcasm.

"I know," Abbey said, raising an eyebrow. "You dream of other things."

"I don't know what you were implying with that, Dr. Bartlet, but the only thing I've dreamed about lately is graduation."

"Senior?"

He nodded.

"Congratulations," she offered. "Just don't lose focus like I did."

"Senioritis?"

"Not quite. When I was a senior in college, I was too busy planning my wedding to think about finals."

"Doesn't look like it hurt you any if you got into Harvard Med," Josh replied. "You're really married to a congressman?"

"I am really married to a congressman."

"He has a Nobel Prize?"

"He does."

"I'm a Poli Sci major," He told her at random.

She smirked.

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"Because politicians are sleazy and you just caught me gawking at your chest."

Abbey shifted her weight to her left leg and narrowed her eyes at him, thoroughly bewildered by his candid nature.

"One, I don't think you're sleazy, I think you're twenty-one. Two, I think it's unfair to generalize on the behalf of all politicians, don't you?"

"Not really, no."

"Jimmy Carter. You think he's sleazy?" She asked.

Josh nodded.

"A very mild form of a sleazy, but sleazy nonetheless."

"Reagan?"

"Sure."

"Bush?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, my husband's a politician and he's not sleazy," Abbey informed him haughtily.

"Sounds to me like your husband's more of an economist than a politician there, Dr. Bartlet."

"That may be true, but it's still an unwarranted assumption to make."

Josh shrugged dismissively.

"To each his own."

"You're a strange kid, Josh.""

"Thank you."

"I really do have to go though. I'm meeting a friend for lunch," Abbey said.

"Yeah."

She turned and started to walk away from where he stood watching.

"I'll see you Monday."

"Dr. Bartlet!" He called after her.

She whipped around.

"Just a word of advice. Never wear a blue sweater on the Harvard campus. You don't want people thinking you're a Yalie now, do you?"

Despite her best efforts not to, she grinned as she shook her head, then turned back around and continued on her way.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

When he finally arrived, she was on the verge of sleep. He tiptoed into the bedroom and headed straight for the closet. As he stripped off his jacket, he heard her stirring under the covers.

"Hey," she whispered groggily.

He spun around and grinned at her.

"Hello, gorgeous."

She sat up, propping herself up on her pillows.

"What time is it?" Abbey asked, in between yawns.

"The flight was rerouted due to traffic. We flew around for about three hours, and eventually ended up at Logan instead of Manchester."

"There was less traffic at Logan than at Manchester?"

"Apparently."

"Uh huh. What time is it?" She repeated.

"Ten after midnight. I'm surprised you're already asleep."

"I'm not clearly."

"You know what I mean."

He walked over and sat on the bed beside her. She smiled at him drowsily and lifted her hand to gently caress his cheek. Her palm traveled down his face and he kissed it as it reached his jaw line. She then pulled her hand away and dropped it to entwine with his hand resting in his lap.

"I missed you."

"Yeah?" He murmured softly, leaning down to kiss her lips.

"Yeah," she managed to whisper just before their lips met briefly.

They exchanged a lingering smile, then he stood up with obvious designs on the closet once more.

"Hey, how was your thing today?" Jed questioned as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Harvard?"

"Yeah!"

"I wore blue," Abbey admitted with a pout.

He chuckled.

"Well done."

"I think most of the students took a liking to me though. One in particular."

After he pulled a t-shirt over his head, he turned to her with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh?"

"His name is Josh Lyman. He showed up to my class five minutes late and then I caught him staring at my chest."

Jed glared at her.

"That juvenile, perverted son of a…"

"Hey, take it easy, tough guy." Abbey laughed. "He's just a kid. And anyway it's not like he was the only one."

"What!"

"Jed, they're college boys that have been presented with a relatively young, moderately attractive professor. What did you expect?"

"Moderately attractive," he scoffed. "Nice try. Men go to war over beauty like yours, Abigail."

She smiled self-deprecatingly, genuinely touched as she always was by his frequent declarations of love, then shrugged.

"In Greece maybe. Not in Boston."

"That's right," Jed agreed. "You Bostonians would rather dump a couple tons of tea into the harbor."

By this time, he had changed into pajama pants and returned to his position on the edge of the bed beside her.

"So what was so special about this Lyman kid?" He asked.

"Well, when I caught him staring, I called him on it in front of the whole class. You'd think something like that would sufficiently do a kid in, but he was waiting for me after class, fully confident and matching me punch for punch."

"So he's resilient. What's the big deal?"

Abbey sighed audibly.

"Are you gonna wipe that disgruntled, jealous look off your face and actually listen to me or are we gonna do this all night?"

He relaxed the tension in his face and flashed her a half-smile.

"Fine."

"Anyway," she ventured. "Despite the fact that he's a government major, he's under the impression that all politicians everywhere are sleazy."

"Jimmy Carter?" Jed asked in surprise.

"I asked him and he said yes!" Abbey replied, just as astonished as her husband.

"Well, I'll be damned."

"So I told him my husband's a politician and he's not sleazy. He said he thought you sounded like more of an economist than a politician."

"Hmm," he mumbled pensively. "I can see why this kid stood out to you."

"He was the one who pointed out that I'd do well not to wear a blue sweater on campus."

"You wore a blue sweater?"

"Yeah…"

"The blue cashmere sweater?"

"Yes, Jed, what the hell…"

"Well, that explains why you caught the majority of your male students gawking at your chest, Abbey!"

She rolled her eyes.

"Can we talk about something else please?"

He grinned at her mischievously.

"We can talk about whatever you want, Mrs. Robinson, but I can think of a couple things I'd rather do. One in particular…"

Abbey giggled girlishly as he pinned her to the mattress and gazed down at her adoringly. She was becoming increasingly impatient and, as a result, pouted alluringly and fluttered her eyelashes at him. He laughed.

"Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me."

"J, come watch The Cosby Show with us."

Josh looked up from his American History textbook in the direction of his roommate, Chris, and his current girlfriend, Amelia Gardner. They were huddled in front of the small television, intensely amused by the Huxtables, or so it seemed.

"Can't," he replied. "Gotta study for my quiz tomorrow."

Chris sat up and squinted in Josh's way, trying to discern the name of his textbook.

"American History. Don't you have a Genetics paper due tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Josh answered, nonchalantly. "I got it under control."

"You have it under control if you actually wrote it. Did you actually write it?" Chris asked doubtfully.

"No. But I got it."

"What are you gonna do?" Amy asked, not familiar with Josh's manipulative tactics.

"He's gonna talk his way out of it," Chris explained.

"And this usually works for you?"

"Yeah," Josh said. "Piece of cake."

"You know, Josh, I would just write the paper. Talking your way out of it is the kind of thing that would have worked with Professor Moore, but this new chick…"

"I can handle her."

"I don't know. I hear she's cool as all hell and I hear she's the hottest thing since Farrah Fawcett, but I also hear she's a Nazi with the grading," Chris said.

"She's a substitute," Josh said with a shrug.

"She's an adjunct professor. There's a difference."

"She's a woman."

At that, Amy jumped off of Chris' lap and marched over to the bed where Josh was lounging with his textbook.

"Oh, shit," Chris murmured.

Josh, who had returned his undivided attention to American History, was so engrossed in his textbook that he didn't notice her. She slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the floor. Chris cringed as it landed with a loud thump.

"Hey, Misogynist Boy. Up here."

Thoroughly alarmed, Josh nervously turned up his widened eyes to her angry, fiery ones.

"I don't know what in the hell makes you think you can slack your way through college by sweet-talking and, by the way, underestimating your professors, but you are not going to sit here and make derogatory comments about women. At least not while I'm in the room. Whoever this new professor is, I hope she serves your ass up on a plate for all to see." She glanced back at the television. "Back to Clair Huxtable. My hero."

Amy floated back over to the couch and sat beside Chris once more. Josh did not move a muscle. In fact, he was much, much too afraid.

"Who is this new professor anyway?" Amy asked at the advent of commercial break.

"Uh…" Chris pondered, as Josh was clearly scared to speak at this point. "Bartlet, is it? Dr. Bartlet."

Amy sat up straight.

"Abbey Bartlet!"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Oh, my God!" Amy exclaimed. "She's my best friend's mom; I've known her since I was a baby!"

"Great," Josh muttered. "I really should have seen this coming."

"You better write that paper, Misogynist Boy," Amy said. "Because I have absolutely no qualms about calling her up and telling her everything I heard here tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

Josh did, in fact, write the paper after all. He stayed up until four in the morning polishing it. The only setback he ran into was a miniscule, arguably unimportant one- he had lost his Genetics textbook. Upon realizing the textbook was missing, Josh convinced himself that he could easily write the paper without it, just so long as he made it sound sophisticated.

He stumbled out of his dorm room around noon and stopped for a latte before heading to class. As it happened, he ended up being the first student to arrive. He glanced down at his watch and saw that class did not begin for another fifteen minutes. This was certainly a first. Dr. Bartlet ought to be proud of him. When he entered the classroom, his ear was pleasantly assaulted by the lovely notes of a Puccini opera- he couldn't put his finger on exactly which one. His equally lovely professor sat behind her desk, eyes closed, with her feet propped up on the surface. Her hand reached up then and he watched as she began rubbing her temple methodically. She had been under a fair amount of stress lately, Josh knew, but it couldn't be more than she was used to working at a hospital. There had to be something else. Normally, he wouldn't care. The personal lives of his professors had no influence over his own. But this wasn't an average professor. From what she had told the class, she led a highly interesting existence. Strange as it was for him personally to feel this way, he found himself actually fascinated by her. It wasn't so much that he was interested in her romantically, at least he didn't think so, but as a person, she was as captivating as a person could get. For a professor anyway.

"Dr. Bartlet?"

He approached her slowly, careful to make his presence known with his loud footsteps. Otherwise, she would never have noticed him. Abbey opened her eyes and threw her feet off of the desk.

"Joshua Lyman as I live and breathe," She said with moderate astonishment. "I may have to mark this day down on my calendar. Fifteen minutes early. I'm shocked and quite frankly, surprised."

He grinned at her and shrugged his shoulders.

"First time for everything."

"So it would seem."

He glanced around the room, as if looking for an image of the music he was hearing.

"Puccini?"

Abbey nodded, impressed.

"La Bohème."

"My sister used to play this record from time to time. She was a Schubert girl, but every now and then she'd throw on Puccini."

"A woman after my own heart," She replied with a sigh.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Hey, is everything okay? When I walked in, you looked a little… tense, for lack of a better word."

"Oh." She shook her head. "It's very sweet of you to ask, Joshua, but I don't want to burden you with the answer to that question."

"Just because I'm your student doesn't mean I don't have ears."

She smiled and let out a reluctant sigh.

"You really want to know?"

"I really want to know."

"Well, my housekeeper just quit to become a masseuse down in Miami and I've got about five loads of laundry waiting for me at home. My mother-in-law, a hypochondriac in every sense of the word, is convinced she has less than a month to live, despite the fact that she's probably healthier than I am. Her husband has pawned her off on me because he can't take it anymore and she refuses to leave the subject alone. My two youngest daughters are in a constant state of war because the older of the two has matured to the point where she no longer wants to play with dollhouses and the younger simply cannot accept that. My oldest daughter was just rejected from both Harvard and Yale, and I think she's going to pull out every strand of hair on her head waiting for a response from Dartmouth. My granddaughter has just started teething and because her mother can focus on nothing besides Dartmouth, I'm left with the arduous task of taking care of her. Tomorrow is the twenty-sixth anniversary of my mother's death and I'll be spending the day grading papers. To top it all off, my husband hasn't been home in three weeks and I'm coping with all of this by myself."

It was all Josh could do to keep him dropping his jaw. And he thought his life was complicated! He had absolutely nothing on her.

"Wow."

She chuckled.

"Sorry you asked?"

"Not quite. I'm sorry about all of this though."

"Thank you." She smiled slightly. "This place, believe it or not, is my sanctuary right now."

"It must be hard not having your husband around."

"Just a little bit." Abbey laughed. "I'm starting to feel a little bit like a single mom and I don't think I like it all that much." She noticed the paper in his hand then. "That your paper?"

He glanced down at it then held it up.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Here."

Josh reached out and handed it to her. She flipped through all ten pages of it then set it down on her desk.

"Looks good."

"Oh, it is good. This paper is God's gift to the world of college Genetics," Josh said, confidently.

"Well," Abbey replied. "I guess I'll find out soon enough."

Jed Bartlet's study was arguably the most peaceful room in the house. Purposely out of the way (awasiwi odenak, as he always said), it was armed with numerous tools to combat whatever and whoever threatened that serenity- hundreds of books, a stereo complete with over fifty classical music and opera records, and a strong iron lock. In his absence, Abbey liked to escape to his retreat whenever she found a free moment. She finished washing the dishes from dinner, checked on the kids one last time, then locked herself in the study. She popped in a Wagner record and began the arduous task of grading all thirty papers that were piled on the desk. When the once far away voices of her tempermental youngest daughters wafted into the room, she turned up the volume. After she had successfully graded ten papers, the phone rang. She c losed her eyes and waited for someone to answer it. After three rings, it stopped and she breathed a sigh of relief. Five minutes later, thirteen-year-old Ellie started banging on the door.

"Mom!"

"Not now, Ellie!"

"But Dad's on the phone!"

"And the world stopped turning," Abbey mumbled. "Tell him I'm busy!"

"Okay."

Without turning back to the paper in front of her, she waited. Sure enough, she received the response she expected.

"Mom!"

"What?"

"He doesn't care!"

"Then tell him I said he should…" Her voice started out loud with irritation, but fell into a soft longing. "…come home."

"What?" Ellie asked.

"Nothing, honey. I'll take it in here." She reached for the phone and lifted it off the receiver. "I've got it, Ellie!"

She waited until she heard Ellie hang up the phone before addressing her husband.

"Hi."

"You're busy?" Jed repeated.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Grading papers."

"I call you, long distance, from Washington and you give Ellie excuses."

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you were here, would I?" Abbey shot back.

"Where the hell is this coming from?" He was bewildered.

"You haven't been home in three weeks, Jed. Do you have any idea what I'm dealing with here? I've got thirty papers to grade, Ellie and Zoey are at each other's throats, Liz is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Annie is constantly screaming, your mother has called once every hour for the last two weeks insisting that her particular case of mild arthritis must be fatal and I should take her into the hospital for tests because she's a medical marvel!" Abbey shouted. "Oh yeah, and I'm pregnant."

"What!" He whispered sharply.

"Just kidding."

"Jesus Christ, Abbey."

She shrugged to herself.

"I thought it would be a nice touch. I am four days late though."

"Really?" Jed asked.

"No, five actually. I'm five days late.

"Abbey…"

"Oh, stop running your hands through your hair, Jed. It's probably just a fluke."

"How did you…"

"Just because I'm not there doesn't mean I can't see you," Abbey said.

"I find that oddly comforting yet, at the same time, a little disturbing."

"I find it a little disturbing myself."

"But you don't think that…" He trailed off.

"Oh, please, Jed. I'm forty-two years old and birth control has never failed us before. Highly unlikely."

"You do seem to have PMS, so I guess that's a good sign." He chuckled. "Never thought I'd say that."

"This from the man who hasn't been home in nearly a month. If I do have PMS, I think it's pretty warranted, don't you?" Abbey retorted.

"I'll be home this weekend," Jed said sympathetically. "I promise."

"I've heard it before."

"You think I like this? You think I like being away from my family for a month at a time?"

"Sometimes I wonder," she said.

"Come on, Abbey!" He exclaimed in frustration.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I know you don't like this either. It's just getting to be too much. I can't do it all. I'm not blaming you, I just…I just wish you were here. I feel like every day without you is wasted and I'm just going through the motions."

"I know, baby. Just a couple more days. Okay?"

Although he could not see her, he could envision her exact expression and her solemn nod.

"Okay."

"You should finish grading those papers."

"Yeah."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Jed asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Yeah."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The moment she hung up the phone, her ears adjusted to the piercing sounds of loud, irritated young voices and a subsequent thud. Abbey closed her eyes tightly, attempting to focus her thoughts elsewhere. Then, the phone rang. She knew exactly who it would be- her mother-in-law, asking if osteoporosis could lead to kidney failure or if migraines had ever been known to cause brain damage. As the phone continued to ring and the voices continued to rage outside, Abbey took one look at the huge stack of papers before her and silently began to cry. 


	4. Chapter 4

Part Four

During class on Thursday, Dr. Bartlet expounded upon the many hereditary diseases babies can be born with and how they can be detected ahead of time. Among other things, she spoke extensively about chromosome number twenty-one and Downs Syndrome. While the rest of the class was thoroughly engrossed in the discussion, Joshua Lyman, as usual, hadn't been paying as close attention as he should have. Dr. Bartlet had promised to return their papers at the end of class and he could not, for the life of him, get it off his mind. He was sure his new professor had taken a liking to him, after the conversations they had had before and after class on several different equations. That was generally enough to guarantee him an A.

Had he not been so preoccupied, Josh would have noticed, as the rest of the class did, that their professor was not her usual self. On an average day, Abbey Bartlet was enthusiastic, thorough, energetic. She would get the class involved and do everything in her power to keep them awake. On that particular day, however, she was sat on a stool in the front of the room and did not move the entire period. She was withdrawn and appeared to be almost putting herself to sleep with her own lecture. Not only that, but she was pale and every so often, she would wince in pain. The class was too afraid to mention anything, assuming that, as a doctor, if there was something medically wrong, she would handle it herself.

Towards the end of class, she called them up one by one to receive their graded papers. The majority of them had been a B with a couple As, a couple Cs, and one D. Josh sat in his seat tapping his foot incessantly until finally his name was called- last. He jumped out of his seat and all but ran to Abbey's desk.

"Saving the best for last, Dr. B?" Josh said, approaching her desk with his usual swagger.

"Well, I figured since you're always the last one to arrive, you should bet the last to get your paper."

She spoke with no warmth in her voice and her glaring eyes seemed to pierce right through him. He frowned in confusion and skeptically took the paper when she handed it to him. She watched as he flipped through it, his eyes widening at all the red marks he discovered on each page. When he reached the last page, he stared in awe at the grade, printed in one big red letter, he had earned.

"A D!" Josh exclaimed, appalled.

"Don't act so surprised, Josh. What did you expect, an A?"

"Well…yeah! I've never gotten below a B on anything in my life!"

She shook her head.

"Every word of that paper was something you pulled right out of your ass. If you didn't think I would notice, you're insane. You have no works cited, no citations, and if I wasn't so positive that entire paper was just Josh Lyman on an Ego Trip, I'd accuse you of plagiarizing."

"But the information…"

"Was wrong! All of your information was wrong. Somewhere in that twisted, convoluted mind of yours, you convinced yourself that if it came from your brain, it had to be correct. It took me nearly an hour to grade your paper, time that was better spent elsewhere, I assure you. I should really take off points for wasting an hour of my life." She stood up then, so slowly that it gave Josh pause. "Listen, Josh, you're a bright kid. I have no doubt that you've got an A in every other class and I understand that maybe Genetics is not your thing, but this is really inexcusable. A paper like this…all you needed to do was research and learn. Even if you understood nothing I've been teaching, all you had to do was pick up a book or two and you'd have been fine. But you didn't. You didn't because you were hoping your charm and magnetism would get you by again, as it always has. What upsets me more than anything is that you didn't try. You couldn't give me the time of day, and I find that personally offensive."

"It's not you, Dr. Bartlet, it's…" Josh trailed off.

"It's my class. It's me. If you had any respect for me at all, you'd have put a little effort into this paper. If you had…" She paused them, drawing in a sharp breath. "If you had…"

This time, all hopes of finishing her sentences were thwarted. Her hand rose up to clutch her stomach and she bent forward. Josh instinctively lurched forward in case she fell. Instead, her knees weakened and she slowly lowered onto the floor, aided by Josh. He glanced over at the staring group of students across the room.

"Somebody call an ambulance!" Josh shouted. "Now!"

The group scattered in search of a phone. Josh propped the ailing woman against the wall and held her up.

"What is it, Dr. Bartlet? Can you tell me what's wrong?" He asked frantically.

"It's okay, Josh," she managed to whisper. "You can go."

"Are you kidding me! I'm not leaving you here. Even I'm not that big of an asshole."

She chuckled faintly, so much so that he almost couldn't hear her.

"You don't know what's wrong?" Josh asked again.

Abbey shook her head.

"Some doctor you are."

She laughed quietly again, causing Josh to smile down at her.

"It's gonna be okay," He reassured.

She nodded. A few minutes later, the ambulance arrived and a number of paramedics filed into the room wheeling a gurney.They immediately lifted Abbey onto the stretcher and strapped her in while one of them interrogated Josh.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Josh answered. "One minute she was yelling at me, the next thing I knew she was on the floor."

"Frank!" One of the other paramedics called out.

"Yeah!"

"This is Abbey Bartlet!"

Both Frank and Josh ran over to the stretcher as they began wheeling it out of the classroom.

"From the hospital!" Frank asked.

"Yeah, thoracic surgeon."

They reached the ambulance and lifted the gurney into the vehicle, hopping in as well. Frank jumped in and turned to Josh.

"You coming?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Are you coming?"

"Oh, uh…yeah, okay!"

He climbed into the back as Frank shut the doors behind him. Josh nervously took a seat beside the stretcher and watched, feeling incredibly out of place.

"Dr. Bartlet, my name is Frank. Can you hear me?" Frank questioned.

Abbey nodded.

"Good. Do you know what happened?"

She shook her head.

"Okay. We'll be at the hospital in just a few minutes." He turned to Josh. "I want you to keep talking to her. We need to keep her awake."

"Okay," Josh agreed. "Uh…maybe now's not the best time, but I'm a little peeved about that D you just gave me."

Her lips curved into a smile, to his utter surprise. He continued.

"You enjoy doing this to me, don't you?"

She nodded.

"And you know, maybe I deserved a lower grade, but I think a D is pushing it, don't you?"

She shook her head.

"That's only 'cause you're not a real professor."

She smiled again.

"I think it's a little strange that you smile every time I insult you."

"Jussakid," Abbey whispered almost incoherently.

"What?"

"She said you're just a kid," Frank clarified.

"Oh," Josh said. "So, what, my opinions don't matter?"

She shook her head.

"Nice, Dr. B. That's real nice."

"Donneedtobe."

"What?" Josh asked again.

"She said she doesn't need to be," Frank said.

"I forgot, you must have a lot of experience in interpreting the incoherent," Josh said to Frank, raising an eyebrow in Abbey's direction.

She frowned, then slowly reached up and poked him in the arm with her long, sharp nail.

"Ow!" He moaned. "Even strapped to a gurney, you're lethal."

The ambulance pulled into the hospital and parked in front of the entrance to the emergency room. As the paramedics lifted the stretcher onto the pavement, Josh followed behind them and they wheeled her into the hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five

Abbey had been delving in and out of consciousness for the last twenty minutes. Her eyelids were heavy and she was now completely numb from the waist down. She opened her eyes and glanced around the quiet room. Her eyes fell upon Josh Lyman, sitting in a chair beside the bed, looking awkward and mildly uncomfortable. When he saw that she was awake, he immediately sat up straight.

"You're up. How do you feel?"

"Okay. How long have we…?"

"We've been here for about half an hour," Josh replied.

"What happened?"

"I don't think I should…"

Thankfully, Josh was spared that exceedingly awkward moment when Dr. David Wright opened the door and walked into the room.

"I see you're awake."

Abbey propped herself up against her pillows to get a better look at him.

"Dave."

"Lie back down, Abbey. You don't want to strain yourself," Dr. Wright said as he moved to stand beside the bed.

"What's going on?" She asked groggily.

"Mr. Lyman didn't tell you?"

"No. What?"

Dr. Wright smiled sadly at her and gently placed his hand on top of hers.

"Abbey, did you have any idea you were pregnant?"

Were. Abbey swallowed hard and blinked back her tears.

"I had suspected it," she whispered. "I was only six or seven day late, so I didn't…"

"Okay. There were a number of chromosomal abnormalities in the fertilized egg. It couldn't develop normally."

Josh looked down at his shoes and frowned when a thought occurred to him. He had been zoning out a little, but hadn't she been discussing chromosomal abnormalities in class earlier? Of all the ironic things, this had to be the cruelest.

"How far along?" Abbey asked, quietly.

"Looks like you were about five weeks pregnant. That sound about right?"

Abbey nodded.

"I've called virtually everyone," Dr. Wright said. "Julia's still in France, Dr. Griffith is in Michigan visiting her brother, Dr. Nolan is driving down from New Hampshire as soon as he can get someone to cover his shift, and I couldn't reach your in-laws. Your father and your sister are driving up to Manchester now to pick up the kids, but it'll likely take them quite awhile to get here."

"What about Jed?"

"He's on his way."

"Does he know…what happened?" She asked softly.

"No. He hung up on me after I said 'Abbey's in the hospital.' He called me back from Dulles and said he was about to jump on the next flight to Logan. He didn't ask why and I didn't tell him. He should be here in less than two hours sans delays."

"He knows."

"What?" Dr. Wright questioned.

"He knows. Or he would have asked. I told him I was a few days late, he must have put two and two together."

"Ah. Either way, he should be here soon."

"Thanks, Dave."

"Of course," he replied. "You'll let me know if you need anything?"

"I will."

"Okay. Keep an eye on her, Josh," Dr. Wright told him. "Normally, this room would be family only, but I'm making an exception."

"Yes. Thank you, Dr."

"I'll be back to check on you a little while, Abbey."

Abbey smiled, and Dr. Wright exited the room.

"I'm sorry to had to witness this," Abbey said to her student.

"It's okay. I just didn't want to leave you here by yourself."

"I appreciate that. Listen, Josh, I know you're still mad at me about the paper, so it means a lot that you stayed anyway. I won't forget that."

"Despite appearances, Dr. Bartlet, I'm not actually a bad guy," Josh said.

"I know you're not. You're just not so good at Genetics."

Josh laughed.

"You could say that."

"And, you've had a lot of things handed to you in your life. I'm hoping that D I gave you will be your motivation to work harder from now on, because it's not so easy getting what you want in the real world. If we all succeeded based on looks and charm, the world would be a pretty scary place, don't you think?"

"Yeah. But if we all succeeded based on looks and charm, you and I would have taken over the world by now."

Abbey chuckled.

"Then I guess it's a good thing that's not the case."

"I don't know. I think we'd make a pretty good team. You know, like Hitler and Goebbels," Josh joked. "Stalin and…whoever his guy was."

Abbey smiled and shook her head.

"You still need to crack open your Genetics book now and then, Misogynist Boy."

"You did talk to Amy!" Josh exclaimed.

"Yes, I did. But make no mistake, that had nothing to do with the way I graded your paper. You didn't need any help screwing yourself over, Josh."

"Yeah, that's the part that bothers me."

A couple hours went by quickly. Abbey slept for most of that time, and Josh had utilized it to read his Genetics book, or at least pretend to. He skimmed over a section on structural genomics and groaned in frustration when almost every concept went right over his head. When Dr. Wright popped his head into the room again, he slammed the book shut. Abbey stirred slightly and opened her eyes.

"How're you feeling?" He asked.

"Fine, thanks," Abbey answered.

"I just got word that Jed's downstairs. He's on his way up."

"Okay. Thanks, Dave."

"Sure thing," Dr. Wright replied, departing from the room.

Josh quickly stood up, Genetics book in hand.

"I should go."

"You don't have to," Abbey insisted.

"No, I should really go."

"All right. Thank you for everything, Josh. Really."

"No problem, Dr. Bartlet. I'll see you in class on Monday?"

"I'll be there," Abbey assured him.

He smiled and left the room as swiftly as possible. As he walked through the hallway, he glanced down at his Genetics book and shook his head. He told himself he wouldn't be needing it anymore. After all of this, he certain he would have a guaranteed B, at the very least. When he looked up, he was passed by a frenetic man jogging in the opposite direction. Although neither of them knew it then, in ten years, they would be working together in the White House, trying, to the best of their extensive abilities, to improve the country.


	6. Chapter 6

Part Six

Manchester, 1998

"Come on, Abbey!"

Jed sat on the bed hunched forward, impatiently waiting for his wife to finish preparing herself for the evening. He was used to the wait, of course, but it never got any easier. She emerged from the bathroom wearing a short black spaghetti strap dress and black stiletto heels. Her hair was haphazardly held off her neck with a clip and she held a tube of mascara in her hand.

"How's this for my very first meeting with your incredibly fabulous new campaign staffers?"

"You're not gonna need the makeup tonight, honey."

"Why?" She asked.

"Because if you wear that dress none of them are gonna be able to lift their eyes from your chest to your face! Put on a sweater, Marilyn."

Abbey rolled her eyes and disappeared back into the bathroom.

"They're not all men, are they?" She called out to him.

"No, but there's a very good chance CJ will rethink her sexual orientation if she sees you in that."

"Go into my closet and grab a black button-down sweater for me, would you?"

He stood up, walked over to her rather large closet and did as he was told. When he had retrieved the sweater, he brought to the bathroom and handed it to her.

"Thank you."

He leaned against the doorframe and watched as she slipped the sweater on and fastened the first few buttons, from the bottom up. She turned back to the mirror and reached back to take the clip out of her hair. Her long dark tresses fell over her shoulders and framed her face. She wiped off the excess eyeliner that had gathered under her eyes and turned to observe her left and right profiles. Then she rotated to face him and placed her hands on her hips.

"Well?"

"Beautiful," Jed said genuinely before changing his tone. "Can we go now?"

"What's the rush?"

"Leo's got them all waiting downstairs!"

"Oh, right," Abbey said. "Okay, I'm almost ready."

"What more could you possibly have to do, Abigail?"

"This."

She threw her arms around his neck and pushed him up against the door, kissing him passionately. When their lips finally broke apart, he struggled to catch his breath, but he wasn't about to complain.

"Worth the wait?" Abbey whispered.

He captured her lips once more and then, instantly regretting the action, pulled away slightly.

"We can't do this now. You see what you started?"

"Just my way of getting you to keep this meeting short. The shorter the meeting, the sooner the…"

She kissed his jawline, then moved to his ear down to his neck. With his hands on her hips, he reluctantly pushed her back, extricating himself from her.

"All right, we'll keep it short and sweet."

"An hour, tops?" Abbey said.

"An hour, tops."

"Okay, let's go."

They walked out of the bedroom hand-in-hand but stopped when they reached the apex of the staircase.

"What?" Jed asked.

"What are their names again?"

"Leo McGarry…"

She rolled her eyes.

"Shut up."

"CJ Cregg, Sam Seaborn, Toby Ziegler, and Josh Lyman."

Her eyes widened.

"What did you say?"

"What?"

"Did you say Josh Lyman?" Abbey questioned in a panic.

"Yeah. What about him?" Jed responded.

"Uh…do you remember, about ten years ago, when I had that stint teaching at Harvard?"

Jed nodded slowly, the realization washing over him.

"He was the kid who…"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

"I don't think he's ever forgiven me for…" Abbey hesitated.

"It was ten years ago, Abbey."

"Would you have forgotten if you missed the dean's list?"

They both knew the answer.

May, 1988

Three days after graduation, Josh Lyman had returned home to Connecticut for the summer, taking his roomate Chris with him. Elated as they were following their commencement, they could focus on nothing besides receiving their grades for the last semester. Chris called his mother every day and asked if the transcript had arrived yet, and Josh would run out to the mailbox every morning on the same mission. Finally, nearly a week later, Josh found his coveted transcript in the mailbox. He ran back into the house and ripped it open while Chris stood beside him just as anxious as he was.

"A, A, A, B, B, A…" Josh recited.

"What?" Chris asked when he paused. "What is it!"

"Damnit!"

"What!"

Josh slammed his transcript down onto the counter in the kitchen and curled his fingers into a fist.

"Bartlet gave me a D."

"You're kidding," Chris said, flatly.

"See for yourself."

He slid the document down the counter until it was in front of Chris, who stared at it in awe.

"Didn't you, like, save her life or something?"

"Sat with her in the hospital for three hours, rode in the ambulance," Josh replied.

"And she still gave you a D?"

"Apparently! Damnit! Yale is gonna see this and change they're minds."

"They're not gonna change their minds, Josh," Chris assured him. "It's one D. They're gonna see the rest of your grades and think this one's just a fluke or something. Don't worry about it."

"I can't believe she would do this to me," Josh muttered.

"Who?"

"Dr. Bartlet, who do you think! I'm gonna miss the dean's list again!"

"I hate to ask this but…did you deserve the D?" Chris asked.

"That's not the point!"

"What is the point?"

"I sat with her in the hospital for three hours! I rode in the ambulance!"

"Then I'm sure she felt really badly about giving you that D."

"This…" He held up the transcript and waved it around. "This is why I don't trust women. I'm not gonna forget this, Chris. This is the kind of thing that stays with you."

1998

"I'm sure he's forgotten all about that," Jed said.

Abbey gripped his hand tightly as they descended the staircase slowly. When they reached the living room, all of its occupants instantly stood up to greet them. Leo walked over and kissed Abbey on the cheek and she smiled radiantly.

"Guys, this is my wife, Abbey. Abbey, this is CJ Cregg."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bartlet."

Leo mouthed the word 'Doctor Bartlet' to her and she amended her sentence.

"Dr. Bartlet."

Abbey laughed.

"Thank you, CJ."

Jed held his arm out in Toby's direction.

"This is Toby Ziegler."

She shook his hand firmly.

"Hi, Toby."

"Dr. Bartlet."

"This here is Sam Seaborn."

Sam smiled his signature grin and shook her hand.

"Thrilled to meet you, ma'am."

"Likewise!"

"And this, of course, is Josh Lyman," Jed said, with only a bit of apprehension in his house.

Abbey smiled confidently and held out her hand to him.

"Nice to see you again, Josh."

"You too, Dr. Bartlet," Josh replied, shaking the hand she had offered to him.

Jed nudged his wife and grinned triumphantly, thinking he had been right after all. Abbey shrugged her shoulders, unconvinced. Suddenly, Josh smiled mischievously and shook his finger at her.

"But don't think I've forgotten that D."

THE END. 


End file.
